


Training Neal

by citrinesunset



Series: The Devil You Know [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5957821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter trains Neal in the art of fellatio. Pleased with Neal's efforts, he decides to offer incentives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training Neal

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set very early in the series, during the events of "The Devil You Know." Can be read alone.
> 
> I'm still working on some other parts to this series. But I felt like writing something short and relatively simple since I haven't added anything to this series in a while.

Peter was a creature of habit. He did the New York Times crossword every day, in pen. He liked to have a beer after dinner. And on Fridays, he wanted a blowjob when he came home from work.

Neal was used to it by now, and had gotten efficient. It didn't have to be a particularly great blowjob. A mediocre one would do. But the better he did, the quicker it would be done and he could go about his own business.

But this Friday, when Neal knelt between Peter's legs and leaned over to take the hardening cock into his mouth, Peter put a hand on his shoulder at the last minute, stopping him.

"Wait," he said. "I almost forgot—I got you something. There's a bag over there, by my briefcase."

Neal looked over his shoulder. They were in the living room, and the bag Peter had indicated was against the wall.

Sometimes Peter preferred to do this in the master bedroom, but Elizabeth was up there now, talking to a friend on the phone. And Peter was surprisingly good, as a rule, about letting Neal keep his own bedroom to himself.

Neal crawled over to the bag, which was too close to warrant getting up off his knees. Peeking inside, he saw a box of condoms. Flavored condoms, to be exact.

This certainly was a surprise. Peter was not a fan of condoms. At least, he wasn't when it came to Neal—he used them frequently with Elizabeth even though she had an IUD. Neal had asked about them once, because swallowing come wasn't his cup of tea, and having it in his ass was even worse.

Peter's response: "When you're the master, and I'm the slave, you can have a preference. Now, no more complaints. It's good for a slave to swallow his master's come."

Needless to say, Neal had not been expecting a change in policy.

Neal held up the box for Peter to see. "You got these for me?"

"I know it's been a rough few months for you, but you've been cooperative and I thought you deserved a treat."

"And when you think 'treats,' you think of flavored condoms."

"I'm not stupid, Neal. I know you're not too fond of having to do this. But you've been really good at doing your job and accepting your new role, and I thought I'd give you a treat and use one of those today."

Neal looked at the box skeptically. He'd never tried flavored condoms before, but if they made giving head more enjoyable, he was all for that.

He opened the box and pulled out a vanilla-flavored condom. He shuffled back between Peter's spread knees. Peter's cock was still hanging out of his pants, and had only softened a little.

As Neal tore open the wrapper, he caught a whiff of a cloying artificial vanilla scent. It wasn't promising, but Peter was watching him expectantly.

Neal gently rolled the condom onto Peter's dick. It was strange, how normal it was becoming to handle Peter like this. If someone had told him a year ago that he'd be touching the cock of the man who was chasing him, he never would have believed it.

He hesitated in putting it in his mouth, though. The condom wasn't really helping. But Peter gave his hair a soft tug, and Neal wrapped his lips around the head. He gingerly flicked out his tongue.

The condom tasted exactly how it smelled—fake and overbearing. He pulled away and grimaced.

Peter gave him a moment, and then sighed. "C'mon, Neal. Don't make me wait all day."

Neal tried again, but gagged.

"Peter, if this is a ploy to make me stop complaining about swallowing, it's very clever."

Peter squinted down at him. "What are you talking about?"

"This thing tastes terrible."

"I should have known you'd find a way to complain...."

"Seriously, it tastes like one of those air fresheners you hang from your rearview mirror. If you don't believe me, try sticking one in _your_ mouth."

Peter studied him for a moment, probably trying to figure out if Neal was just rebelling. Then he looked almost disappointed.

"I only got them for you, because I thought it'd help with your training. If you don't like them, we won't use them. I'm sorry, Neal—I really did want to make things easier on you. I can tell you've been doing your best."

It was surprisingly hard to bear a grudge against Peter. As far as masters went, Peter wasn't so bad. He wasn't sadistic, and he clearly considered himself to be a fair man. The fact that he was willing to interpret Neal's efforts as "his best" was really quite charitable, considering Neal wasn't expending anywhere near as much effort as he might have. Really, Peter's only fault was that he insisted on taking advantage of all the privileges of slave ownership. 

And a good master could be plied for gifts and rewards.

"Well," Neal said slowly, "maybe it would be easier for me to perform if I got a reward _after_ this...."

"Did you have something in mind?"

Neal weighed his options. There were a lot of pleasures that he'd lost when he was enslaved. "I haven't had any wine since I was arrested. I noticed there's a new bottle of cabernet sauvignon in the pantry...."

"You'll need to ask Elizabeth. She's the one who buys the wine around here. But I have no objection to you having a small glass as a reward."

Neal would ask her, but since Peter hadn't promised him the treat, he decided to press further.

"I think I would feel better if I could use the computer, too."

He hadn't been allowed to touch a computer, let alone use the internet, since he arrived.

Peter frowned, and Neal wondered if he'd pushed his luck too far.

Before Peter could object, Neal said, "Just fifteen minutes. You could watch me the whole time."

"All right. Fifteen minutes. But we'll put the laptop on the coffee table so I can keep an eye on you."

Neal smiled. Now that he knew that sex was a way he could gain more privileges, giving blowjobs didn't seem like as bad of a deal.

Peter pulled the condom off and closed it in his fist. He nodded at Neal, signaling that it was time to get back to work. Neal rested one hand on Peter's thigh and used the other to guide Peter's erection between his lips.

He was quickly learning what Peter liked. Perhaps that was why Peter thought he was trying his best. But it didn't take much skill to observe Peter's responses. Neal's business was observing people, reading their body language. Part of him liked that he had the power to elicit a reaction from Peter. It gave him a certain amount of control.

Peter had softened a little during their conversation, but some gentle attention to the head of his cock made him swell in Neal's mouth. Neal tasted the salty pre-come on his tongue.

There was a philosophy, which Peter apparently subscribed to, that it was good and healthy for a slave to taste his master's come on a regular basis. The idea was that semen was high in protein, and slaves should appreciate every part of their masters.

As though master needed an excuse to come in their slaves' mouths.

At least it tasted better than the vanilla flavoring on the condom.

It was surreal when Neal thought about. He was getting used to the taste of Peter's skin and his come. It didn't taste bad, but it was strangely intimate. He knew some owners treated their slaves like objects, but Peter _knew_ him. Wasn't it strange, getting his dick sucked by a man he'd arrested?

If it wasn't, it didn't make him too shy. Peter gently rocked his hips upward as much as he could from a seated position, pushing his cock into Neal's mouth as deeply as he could. He entwined his fingers in Neal's hair, tugging until the roots ached.

With his other hand, Peter gripped Neal's shoulder. "Oh yeah, that's so good. I think I'm gonna come."

Neal appreciated the warning. He steeled himself, and after another minute of diligent work, Peter came on his tongue. Neal swallowed quickly, and licked the head of Peter's cock clean before pulling away.

Peter leaned back against the sofa. He didn't move to put his dick away yet. Neal stayed where he was. He'd learned that Peter didn't like him getting up and leaving before he was given leave to do so. Neal rested his chin on Peter's knee, and Peter stroked his hair.

"That was very good, Neal. See? You're learning to be a good slave. I know you don't think that's anything to be proud of, but trust me—it's a mark of a smart slave to know it pays off to please your master."

"Does that mean I'm getting my rewards?"

"Yes. Just be patient. I'm not done with you yet."

Peter ran his hand down the back of Neal's head, settling around his neck. He played with Neal's collar, slipping his warm fingers between Neal's skin and the metal, gently tugging the collar against Neal's throat.

Neal closed his eyes, pressed his cheek against Peter's leg, and tried not to think about how owned he felt right now.


End file.
